


The Waiting Game

by cynicalfairyking



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Colonial era, M/M, historical fiction - Freeform, i'm an obsessive history nerd, kiddo mattie is cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalfairyking/pseuds/cynicalfairyking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they meet is in battle.  Well it was more of a land dispute, but if you were one of the richest nations in Europe you might be prone to exaggeration as well.</p>
<p>Canada and Netherlands relationship through the ages.  Featuring kiddo Mathijs and Golden Age Nederlands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Waiting Game

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for Nedercan (on Tumblr). She asked for Colonial era NedCan and so I did my best to deliver. Until the end Canada is around 12, and Ned is around 18. Enjoy :D

The first time they meet is in battle. Well it was more of a land dispute, but if you were one of the richest nations in Europe you might be prone to exaggeration as well.

“What are you doing here?” His challenger’s is eight, maybe ten; it’s hard to take him seriously. Still he’s decked out with what looks like a fully functional bow, a quiver full of arrows, and who knows how many knives, it might be wise to… nah, he’s still a kid and I’m the great Dutch Empire what’s the worst he can do?

“What I want.”

The kid eyes him nervously, like a deer deciding whether or not to bolt, and he has to admit he is kinda cute when he gets defensive. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I said ‘I do what I want’ and right now I want to be here. Got a problem with that kiddo?”

“I’m not a kid.” His eyes sweep over the form in from of him. He so is. “Anyway, who are you?”

It’s with a smirk and gleaming grass green eyes that he replies, “Oh, just the Kingdom of de Nederland. You?”

“I’m the Mohawk nation.[1] Most people call me Matoskah[2] though.”

“I think I’ll call you Mathijs. It’s cute, so it fits you.” He swears he saw the kid blush, but whenever he mentions it Mattie fervently denies him and tells him his memory’s going.

“You know who I am now, so get of my land.”

“No. I don’t think I will. I’m setting up a trading post here whether you like it or not.” He swings his arms out to his sides, gesturing towards the land around him. “Welcome to New Amsterdam!”

It seems he has piqued the kids interest if the glint in his eyes is anything to go buy. Good. He could use a malleable trading partner. “A trading post? I could live with that.”

“Great, now shoo. I’ve got a grand vision to enact.”

* * *

The next time they meet, it is on slightly more friendly terms. But ‘de Nederland’ is still a jerk, and Matoskah still can’t decide whether or not he likes him. The earth begins to cycle through her seasons, years pass by, and reluctantly or not he begins to spend more time with Johan. For Johan quickly realizes that Mathijs is the one who is beginning to represent those of his people born in the New Netherlands, and that apparently means that he needs to learn how to act like a civilized European. Which, as it turns out, is very confusing.

“No Mathijs, you eat rice with a fork. Not a spoon.”

He looks down at his plate. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay your learning kiddo, but do try to remember it’s not only ever going to be just me here.” The last part came out in a rush, but Matoskah picks up on it anyway.

“What do you mean? Are you leaving?”

“What? Are you worried you’re going to miss me?” Even without a perfect grasp on the language Matoskah notices that he says going to, and not would you. But either way the answer was yes, not that he’d ever admit it. He’d miss Johan’s snarky responds, and his patience in teaching, and his bright green eyes, and his soft hair, and…

His face flushes red, and he stutters out his answer. “N..n..no”

Johan smirks. “Of course you are.” Then he sits down until he is level with Matoskah and looks him straight in the eye. “Look kiddo, England bought the land from me. I just… well I can’t afford another war. You don’t have to listen to me… but hear me out at least. I’d go up to your northern lands. England won’t be looking for you there, and it will be safer okay?” Matoskah nods. “Good. Well… I’ve got to go. I’ll, uh… miss you too kiddo.”

* * *

In the end, Matoskah decides to take Johan’s advice. He trusts the man after all, despite his better judgement. It is there that he meets France, and becomes Quebec, New France, and Canada. He becomes Matthieu, not Matoskah, or Mathijs, but Matthieu, France’s nouveau petit frère.

And then France looses him to England, and he is simply Canada, and most importantly Matthew. That around the time when he finally sees Johan again, before the older country slips out of his life for years.

It’s during his first year with England and he still doesn’t quite know what to expect. He tries to be as unobtrusive as possible, and England seems to respect that, letting him do what he wants as long as he doesn’t join America in this phase of rebellion.

They’re in the parlor when there is a knock on the door, England puts down his knitting and moves to go answer it while Matthew does his best to blend in with the floral wallpaper. The door opens and he sees him, the man he hasn’t seen in years. Forgetting all ideas of politeness he springs forth. “Johan!”

The dutchman simply lifts him into a hug. “It’s good to see you again Mathijs.”

“Did France introduce the two of you” England is glancing back and forth between them, as if trying to decide if Johan is a threat.

Johan smirks. “Something like that.” He answers, ruffling Mathijs’ hair.

Matthew wants to steal the older man away, to drag him upstairs and sit and talk for days. But he can’t because England is in charge he and it is his meeting with Johan, and Matthew doesn’t have any say in the matter because he isn’t a country.

But he will be someday, and then the dutchman will be his.

* * *

They don’t meet again; not for another century and a half. By that time the world is once again on the brink of war, and England has asked Canada to shelter the Dutch Royal family currently residing in his country. He agrees, if only for the glimmer of hope that it might help him get a chance to see Johan again.

He wants his support back, (the man who taught him everything he knows, more so than France or England ever did. The man who sees him for him, and not for America, or as pilage-able land.) but that is not to be.

Not until he storms into the Dutch countryside himself driving the Germans from the land.

But by then it is too late for far too many, and he feels ashamed. He should have come sooner, he should have been there from the start. Who knows how many lives he could have saved?

Johan doesn’t see it that way though. In his eyes Mathijs is beautiful, his savior, the adorable little kid that finally grew up.

“Wait!” He calls, and Mathijs stops to look back at him, a questioning gaze in his bright violet eyes. “I just…” The words stumble off his tongue, unsure of how to go on. For the words were stuck in his throat like glue. “Thanks.” He finally managed. “Thanks for everything!” He looked down at his feet, unable to look the other in the face. His pride wouldn’t allow it, what with the water gathering in his eyes.

Mathijs cuts him off. “It was nothing, Johan. Really.”

“But…”

“Seriously, anyone else would have done the same.” He knows for a fact that that isn’t true, but how is he to argue when the other pulls up his chin to look him in the eyes.

Despite himself, Johan snorts. “Really? Like your brother helped?” Mathijs winces, but none the less remains silent letting him continue with his onslaught. “I’ve been around longer than you. And I’ve seen so much more. The others wouldn’t have helped. Not even if they though it could benefit them.” Johan stops for a second, and something in his voice changed. It was almost softer. “That’s what’s special about you Mathijs. You didn’t help me because you thought it would better you. You helped me because I was suffering. You saved me because you thought it was the right thing to do. There aren’t many who will do that.”

“Johan…”

Johan cuts the other man off before he could say anything. “Don’t tell me not to thank you Mattie! Don’t tell me it was nothing. Because it wasn’t. It meant the world to me. It meant the world to us. You gave us hope, with you food during Hongerwinter,[3] with your willingness to shelter them and let Margiet be born dutch[4], and your promise of freedom. You saved me, and for that I must thank you.” He presses a bouquet of brightly coloured tulips[5] into the Mathijs’ arms. “Thank you, for everything.”

The year is 1945, and after centuries he is finally being called Mathijs again.

**Author's Note:**

> ￼[1] HeadCannon: Canada used to represent the Mohawk peoples, before he was colonized. Similarly America represented the Algonquian people.
> 
> This changes the borders a bit, but you had hardly expect that the represented the people divided by the current borders when those weren’t formalized until the 1800’s. That doesn’t make any sense.
> 
> Anyhow this give Canada control of what is now New York, where the Dutch colonized.
> 
> [2] HeadCannon: Until the 1700’s Canada and America still call them selves their Native names: Matoskah (meaning white bear) and Mahpee (meaning sky) respectively.
> 
> [3] The Dutch famine during the winter of 1944, whence the Canadian dropped food from the skies to help.
> 
> [4] Princess Margiet was born in hospital that was temporarily declared international territory (not Canadian) so that she could still be Dutch. After Margiet’s birth was the only time a foreign flag was flown of Canadian parliament building.
> 
> [5] The Netherlands gives 10,000 tulips to Canada each year in thanks for their help in the second World War.


End file.
